Raziel watched Leon move with a precision and speed that unnerved her. This wasn't the usual playful banter or the bickering over broken gadgets. This was serious. Whoever was on the other side of that door wasn't just anyone—they knew him, and judging by his reaction, Leon wasn't pleased to hear from them.
She clenched her fists, torn between obeying his command to stay back and the burning desire to help. Staying put wasn't exactly her style. But then, there was something about Leon's demeanor that kept her rooted in place, if only for now.
The voice called out again, louder this time. "Come on, Leonidas. You're not going to make me wait out here like some common beggar, are you? I thought we were past this."
Leon's jaw tightened, his eyes locked on the door as if willing the person behind it to disappear. He signaled once more for silence, and Raziel, for once, stayed still, though every nerve in her body screamed for action.
With a deep breath, Leon turned the handle and cracked the door open just enough to peer through. The cold voice continued, smooth and controlled. "There's no need for all this tension, my friend. I'm not here to fight—unless, of course, you'd prefer it that way."
Leon opened the door fully now, revealing a tall figure cloaked in shadows. His features were sharp, aristocratic, and his eyes held a dangerous glint. Dressed in a sleek, dark coat that flowed behind him like smoke, he stepped into the room with an eerie grace. Raziel couldn't help but notice the way his presence seemed to suck the warmth out of the room, leaving only a cold, lingering chill.
"Silas," Leon muttered, his voice low and barely concealing his disdain. "What do you want?"
The man, Silas, smiled—an unsettling, too-perfect smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Always straight to the point with you, Leon. No pleasantries? No catching up on old times?"
Leon's grip on his weapon didn't loosen, his posture still tense. "We don't have any 'old times' worth talking about. So, unless you're here for something important, you can leave the same way you came in."
Silas raised an eyebrow, unfazed by Leon's cold reception. His gaze shifted ever so slightly, catching a glimpse of Raziel standing in the shadows. "Ah... and who might this be?" His voice dripped with curiosity, though there was something predatory behind it, like a wolf catching sight of a lamb.
Raziel stiffened, her eyes narrowing at the man. She didn't like the way he looked at her, the way his gaze lingered just a little too long. Instinctively, the Brimstone flames began to stir within her, flickering to life just beneath the surface of her skin. She could feel the heat rising, the familiar warmth crawling up her arms, threatening to break free.
This time, she didn't hold them back.
With a quiet hiss, the flames emerged, licking at her fingertips and swirling around her arms in dark, crackling wisps. The air around her shimmered with heat, and for the first time since he entered, Silas's smooth demeanor faltered—just for a second. His eyes flicked toward the flames, a brief spark of surprise flashing across his face. But just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, replaced by that cold, unsettling smile.
He said nothing about the fire, but Raziel didn't miss the subtle shift in his posture. He was more cautious now, more aware of her, though he hid it well behind his mask of calm.
Leon's voice cut through the tension, his tone sharp and warning. "Silas, I said, leave."
Silas's gaze lingered on Raziel for a moment longer, as if considering something, before he slowly turned back to Leon. "Of course," he said, his voice once again smooth and composed, though a shade more careful than before. "No need to get... heated." He glanced at Raziel's flames again, an almost mocking gleam in his eyes.
Raziel's fists clenched, the flames swirling more violently around her hands. She was ready to strike, to burn away that smug look on his face, but Leon stepped between them, his body a barrier, his eyes locked on Silas with a silent, dangerous promise. "She's none of your concern," he growled. "Say what you came to say and get out."
Silas' smile widened, and he took a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate. "Very well. Straight to business, then." His voice lowered, becoming even more sinister. "You've been causing quite the stir lately, Leon. The Council isn't pleased. They sent me to... offer a solution."
Leon's eyes darkened. "I'm not interested in anything the Council has to say."
"Ah, but that's the problem," Silas replied, his tone almost mocking. "You never are. And that's why they've decided it's time to put an end to your little... rebellion. But, you know me—I'm always willing to negotiate before things get too messy."
The air grew thick with tension, the kind that made Raziel's heart race. She could feel the heat of her flames itching to escape, but she held them back, waiting for Leon's signal.
Leon, however, wasn't budging. "If you think I'm going to listen to a single word that comes from your mouth, you're more delusional than I thought. Now get out."
Silas sighed dramatically, as if disappointed by Leon's response. "Such a shame. I was hoping we could avoid unnecessary bloodshed, but... if you insist." His smile vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating stare. "I'll give you one last chance, Leon. Surrender now, or the next time we meet, I won't be so generous."
Leon's grip tightened on his weapon. "Get. Out."
Silas smirked, taking a slow step back toward the door. "I'll be seeing you, Leon. And you too, firestarter," he added, his tone dripping with condescension. Without waiting for a response, he turned and slipped through the doorway, his dark coat sweeping behind him like a shadow.
The moment the door closed behind him, the room fell into silence, thick with the weight of what had just happened. The flames around Raziel's hands flickered, then slowly died down as she exhaled, trying to regain her composure.
Leon turned to her, his expression a mixture of concern and something else—something Raziel couldn't quite place. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," she muttered, though the adrenaline was still coursing through her veins. "Who the hell was that?"
Leon hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly conflicted. "That... was Silas. He works for the Council. Or, more accurately, he's one of their enforcers."
"And what does he want with you?" Raziel demanded, her frustration rising. "What did he mean by the Council not forgiving?"
Leon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's complicated. Silas... let's just say we've got history. And the Council... they don't like when people go against their orders. I've been on their bad side for a while now."
Raziel's eyes narrowed. "And now I'm part of it?"
Leon met her gaze, his expression serious. "You were part of it the moment you started using those flames, Raziel. Whether you wanted it or not."
The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She clenched her fists, feeling the residual heat still simmering beneath her skin. "So what now? We just wait for him to come back and do whatever the Council wants?"
"No," Leon said, his voice firm. "We prepare. If they're sending people like Silas after us, it means they're getting serious. And that means we need to be ready for whatever's coming."
Raziel took a deep breath, trying to focus on anything other than the firestorm of questions swirling in her mind. She tried—really tried—to push them aside, to focus on the next move, but it was like trying to bottle up a hurricane. Leon had just dropped a major bomb on her, and he expected her to stay quiet about it? Yeah, right.
"So," she began, folding her arms, "this Council you're so buddy-buddy with—what's their deal?"
Leon didn't even turn around. "Not now, Raziel."
"Not now? Not now? You're kidding, right?" she scoffed, marching up behind him. "You drop some cryptic name like 'The Council,' act all freaked out when this Silas guy shows up, and then just expect me to sit tight and shut up? You know that's not happening."
Leon muttered something under his breath, still refusing to look at her as he continued cleaning up the mess they'd made. "Drop it."
"No," Raziel snapped. "I'm not dropping anything. Who the hell are they? And why do they care so much about you?"
Leon finally turned to face her, his eyes narrowing with frustration. "Raziel, for the love of—just drop it. This isn't something you need to worry about."
Raziel raised an eyebrow, her temper flaring. "That's crap and you know it! I'm stuck in this mess with you, aren't I? If some shady 'Council' is hunting you down, I think I deserve to know why!"
He slammed the broken piece of machinery onto the table with a loud clang, spinning around to face her. "It's not your problem! It's mine."
Raziel stared at him, disbelief flooding her expression. "Not my problem? You're dragging me into all your scavenger crap, and now I'm being hunted by some psycho who knows your name, but it's not my problem?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Yeah, sure, Leon. Real convincing."
Leon rubbed his temples, visibly struggling to keep his cool. "Raziel, you don't understand. You're not a scavenger—"
"I know I'm not a scavenger!" she cut him off, stepping closer, her voice rising. "But I'm standing here, aren't I? I'm in the middle of this with you, and every time I ask you for answers, you stonewall me like some kind of—ugh!" She threw her hands up in exasperation, barely resisting the urge to set something on fire just to blow off steam.
Leon's eyes narrowed further, his posture stiffening. "You're not a scavenger, and that's why you don't get it! This isn't just some game, Raziel. It's dangerous."
She scoffed, unimpressed. "Yeah, no kidding! But I've been in danger since the day I got these damn flames, so you're gonna have to come up with a better excuse than that."
Leon was silent for a moment, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He clearly didn't want to have this conversation, but Raziel wasn't giving him a choice. "The Council keeps scavengers like me in check," he muttered, voice low, like the words left a bad taste in his mouth.
Raziel leaned in, her eyes sharp. "Keeps you in check how?"
"They control what we can do," Leon replied through gritted teeth, "what we're allowed to find, who we're allowed to work with. And if you break their rules, they make sure you're... dealt with."
Raziel's eyes widened. "Dealt with?" She let out a bitter laugh. "And here I thought scavengers were all about freedom and doing whatever the hell you want. Guess not."
Leon shot her a dark look. "That's what they want you to think. The truth is, scavengers like me—like Silas—have to answer to them. You get too good at finding things, creating things? They either own you or wipe you out. And since I'm not really the 'take orders' type, I'm kind of on their hit list."
Raziel blinked, taking it all in, but her natural brashness wouldn't let her hold back. "Wait, so you're telling me this whole Council thing is like some scavenger babysitting service? You break a few rules, and they send people to smack you down? That's... that's stupid."
Leon sighed, the frustration in his eyes growing. "It's not that simple, Raziel."
"Oh, it sounds pretty damn simple to me," she fired back, sarcasm dripping from every word. "You're a prodigy, right? Mr. 'Scavenger Supreme'? And these people don't like it, so now they're sending their lapdogs after you? What's complicated about that?"
Leon clenched his jaw, clearly trying not to snap. "You don't get it, Raziel. They don't just control scavengers, they control everything we use. The parts we need, the gear, the tech—they decide what we're allowed to have. You piss them off, and suddenly everything dries up. No supplies, no resources, nothing. And when they're done making your life hell, they send someone like Silas to finish the job."
Raziel's frustration bubbled over. "So that's it? You've been running from them this whole time and didn't bother to tell me?"
Leon shot her a glare. "I was trying to keep you out of it."
"Too late!" Raziel barked, her hands igniting with Brimstone flames. "I'm in it now, whether you like it or not!"
Leon's eyes flicked to the flames crackling around her fists, and his expression softened, but only slightly. "Raziel, listen to me. The more you know, the bigger the target you become."
She rolled her eyes, the flames around her hands flaring briefly before flickering out. "Please. You think I'm scared of some Council? I've handled worse."
Leon didn't respond, but the look in his eyes was warning enough.
Raziel wasn't done. "I'm a ghost Splicer, Leon. House Infinite declared me dead, remember? That rogue scientist from House Eternal knows about my powers, and guess what? We've got ex-House Eternal agents running around with us." She jabbed a thumb at herself, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm already a walking target, probably top of a hit list somewhere, so don't act like this Council thing is gonna be what tips the scales."
Leon's brow furrowed. "You don't know what you're—"
"I know I'm a big deal," she cut him off, brash as ever. "I know people want me dead, or captured, or whatever. Hell, they probably think I'm a threat to their whole 'order,'" she added, her voice mocking the idea. "So, let's be real. The Council? Just another bunch of goons with too much power who think they can control everything. And they can get in line."
Leon's mouth opened as if to respond, but he stopped himself. The way she spoke—so matter-of-fact, like she was invincible—it caught him off guard. Raziel noticed his hesitation and pressed on.
"You think I'm scared of being a target?" she continued, shaking her head. "I've been living like this since the day I left the Houses. Nothing's changed. So don't pull this 'keeping me safe' crap, Leon. I already know the score. I'm in it, and I'm staying in it."
Leon let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. "It's not that simple. You don't really understand what—"
"I don't need to understand," Raziel interrupted, her voice sharper now, the frustration bubbling back to the surface. "You're acting like I'm some fragile thing you've gotta protect. But guess what? I don't need you to shield me from whatever Council is out there. I've survived rogue scientists and Houses that want me erased from existence. I can handle a few scavengers playing power games."
Leon's fists clenched at his sides. "Raziel, it's not just scavengers. The Council controls everything—"
"I don't care!" Raziel fired back, her patience gone. "I've been hunted before. I've had people breathing down my neck, trying to take me down. But guess what? I'm still here. And if this Council wants a piece of me, they'll get burned like everyone else."
Leon stared at her, his expression a mix of frustration and something close to admiration. "You think being a ghost Splicer makes you untouchable?"
"No," Raziel snapped. "I know it makes me a problem. For them, for anyone who gets in my way. And I'm fine with that. So stop treating me like I don't know what's coming."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them crackled with tension, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down like a storm about to break. Finally, Leon sighed, the frustration draining from his face, replaced by a grim resolve.
"Fine," he muttered. "You think you're ready for this? Then let's get ready."
Raziel smirked, her fiery spirit refusing to dim. "About fucking time."